


A Vulpine Gentleman with Business of His Own

by bunn



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, spirits of the land
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:09:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27183619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunn/pseuds/bunn
Summary: A brief interlude in the life of a fox with a job to do.Written as a treat for 2Nienna2 in the Innumerable Stars 2020 exchange.
Comments: 23
Kudos: 55
Collections: Innumerable Stars 2020





	A Vulpine Gentleman with Business of His Own

**Author's Note:**

  * For [2Nienna2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Nienna2/gifts).



Fallen leaves... the trail of a field mouse trailing over roots and into dewy grass, a fascinating musk. Movement, movement among the leaves.  _ Leap and grab! _ The swift snap and crunch,  _ satisfaction _ . Ripe blackberries, rich and sweet. An earthworm. 

_ Trail of a dog, oh no, no _ ... but it was old, a day or more. Beech leaves over wet soil, the earthy scent of decay. Wood-smoke from a small fire, and something more... the faint whiff of the plants that hobbits set fire to, in the strange pipes they held in their mouths. Behind that, hobbit-sweat. Curly hair and bare feet. Danger? No, they were not moving, only lying still and breathing slow; there would be no thrown stones this time. 

He picked up a few crumbs, and paused, his nose hovering above a curly head, but not quite touching it. 

_ Hobbits! _ he thought. ’ _ Well, what next? I have heard of strange doings in this land, but I have seldom heard of a hobbit sleeping out of doors under a tree. Three of them! There’s something mighty queer behind this. _

He could not linger to find out any more about it though. He had business of his own to attend to.

He turned south, stalking soft-footed through the trees, moving fox-wise, which is to say, rarely in a straight line, warily: both hunter and hunted. The velvet sky above him was filled with light of stars, against which the woven branches stood out dark, a defence and shelter against that clear and merciless brilliance.

The trees began to change from oak and beech to willow, and the ground under his paws was damper now. He stopped to drink from a brook, balancing carefully on a root as he leaned down to lap at the clear water, then marked the spot before continuing on his way. 

At last as the dawn was beginning to pale in the East, he came trotting down to the riverbank, and found her there waiting for him. 

Her hair was long and green, and she smelled of river mud and water-lilies, her eyes golden and slit like his own. In her lean hand, she held with long nails a fish. 

She looked up at the faint movement of the fox coming into sight, and met his bright eyes. 

_ Tell me _ , she said, hungrily, longingly.  _ Tell me the life of the land _ . 

He padded in a circle, watching her sideways out of cautious eyes, until he found the place that felt right to sit, and began to tell her all that he had smelled and heard and seen: Dwarves on the road, hens pecking in the farmyard, Elves singing in the trees, dogs barking, the wasp in the apple orchard that had stung his nose, blackberries ripening, the taste of rat, strange voices on the air and black hooves galloping. Hobbits asleep under a tree where no hobbits had ever been before. 

He told his tale until the sun was well risen and he had no more left to say, till he was blinking with weariness. At last, she gave him the fish, and a place to sleep under a fallen willow-trunk where the leaves lay thick, and he curled up with the white tip of his tail over his nose and slept with the content of one who had carried out his task and done it well.

The Riverwoman watched beside him through the day, shimmering in the sunlight as the glittering green damselflies flitted around her. When the blue dusk fell around them like a cloak, the fox pulled himself to his feet and trotted briskly away without a backward look. 

The Riverwoman watched him go, and then with barely a ripple, she slipped under the water and began to make her way upstream through the dark water, on her way to bring news to her daughter. 

**Author's Note:**

> When the hobbits visit Tom Bombadil, they are surprised by how much he knows about the Shire. We know he's in touch with Farmer Maggot, but perhaps he has other sources of information, too.


End file.
